Lullabies to You
by Eddifer
Summary: After a life of regret, Luke Snyder is finally in a good place. But when an old friend returns and threatens his happiness, he's torn between running or admitting that maybe, just maybe, he could be happier.


He was floating. He felt intangible; unstoppable; bulletproof; and the oddest of all: invulnerable. He felt like a miscreant who eluded penance after a murder; or a teen slithering out past curfew. It was an outer body experience, and had anyone asked him, he would deny any of it had happened. After all, it was Noah. His Noah. The Noah who had been his rock for years. The same Noah who had, years ago, reached for Luke's small, shaking hands. The same Noah whose own hands calmed Luke's entire state of mind, and at the same time, provoked unfamiliar sparks to fly through his body until he was sure the fire had sent him flying through the air.

That was it. He was flying. There was no other explanation for his weightless feeling. Was he dreaming then? He'd flown before. In his dreams, he'd be standing on the edge of a steep cliff, nothing below but a vast ocean and jagged rocks. He'd lift up on the sole of his bare feet, rocks scratching his skin, and he'd float right above the water, almost as if strings carried him across. The wind would blow gently into his face, and his clothes always seemed non-existent. The sweet smell of pine and salt covered his senses and lifted him up...up...up. He never looked down, but his one mistake was constant. He'd start wondering just how he was able to fly, and suddenly he was falling, faster and faster until an earth-shattering shiver ran through his spine and awoke him.

But this wasn't that dream...he couldn't necessarily see anything besides a white light, endless and almost luminescent. Now, someone was shaking him, and the light was becoming fuzzy, interchanging between black and gray. He opened his eyes, finding himself staring into the bluest oceans he'd ever seen.

"Noah..." he whispered, his voice thick with sleep and sex.

Noah gave a small smile, almost leering near sad, and reached a timid hand to brush hair out of Luke's eyes.

"Sorry...I shouldn't have done that. Go back to bed." Noah stood, grabbing his shirt off a secrete corner of the room. He kept his back to Luke, slipping the shirt on easily. Luke could only keep his eyes on Noah. He wiped his burning eyes and pulled the bedsheets higher up his body.

"Noah?"

Noah turned slowly, as if it hurt too much to look at Luke. Their eyes met, unspoken words slipping between them.

Do you regret it?

Do you wish it was with someone else?

Did you mean what you said?

Did you say what you meant?

Luke gulped, his nerves taking the best of him.

"Are you leaving?"

Noah scratched his head. "Yeah...I've got some...stuff to take care of."

"Oh..." Luke looked away, glancing up when he felt Noah walking towards him.

Noah sat on the bed, and once again, those timid hands reached towards Luke, this time traveling from the soft base of his neck. His fingers circled around to the front of his neck, where a necklace laid right above Luke's heart. Noah leaned forward, his hands grasping Luke's arms. He placed his head right above Luke's heart. Luke's heart could only beat faster.

"Noah..." he whispered.

"Shhhh...Don't speak." The response came quietly, followed by the sound of Noah inhaling deeply. He placed a kiss on the locket before lifting it. He kissed the area shielding Luke's heart. Once, twice, three times; each time harder than the next.

"Don't forget...okay?" He whispered gently.

"Forget what, Noah?"

Noah finally lifted his head, giving Luke only a few seconds to glance at his teary eyes.

"I'll see you later...okay, Luke?"

Luke could only nod. Noah turned back once more, giving Luke that same sad smile. Why did this goodbye feel so final? Why did Noah look so heartbroken? Why did his heart suddenly feel too large for his chest? And why couldn't he say anything meaningful?

I like you...

I love you...

I feel like you're leaving me...

But I think a part of would die if you did...

Noah gave a partial wave, and Luke could only hope that Noah would return.

******************************************************************************************************************

He was falling. He felt transparent; defeated; like a bullet had ran through his soul. Rain hit his skin, one after the other. His grandmother had once told him that when it rained, God was mourning a death. In a way, this was a death, right? He looked up, wet hair covering his eyes. He flipped his head until he could see the dark sky above him, rude crystals his enemy. He continued walking; his shoes too heavy for his body. For whatever reason...he didn't care. Not about his wet shoes. Not about the soaked clothes that clung to his body. After all...he was 18 years old and roaming the streets like a beggar. Except , unlike a beggar, he didn't know what he wanted, or for that matter, what he needed.

He blinked water out of his eyes...or maybe they were tears? Whatever they were, they clouded his vision, adding to how lost he felt.

Where was going?

Where could he go?

Normally, at a time like this, Noah was his euphoria.

But...Noah was...

He shook his head. In this case, only one place made sense. He began running, purposely stepping in huge puddles. Cold water seeped through his pants and shoes, made them seem 100 times heavier.

Are you happy now, Noah? Now that you've screwed me over?

He finally arrived at his destination: a small graveyard, tombstones spread strategically through it.

He walked, dodging and dodging until he reached his second euphoria. He knelt before the tomb, wet soil digging into his fingernails, his clothes, until he felt like they had merged with him. His tears ran faster. Was gravity against him too?

Images flashed through his head like a screenplay; Noah, fighting him over the remote. Noah, covering his eyes for a surprise dinner. Noah, shy and bashful, smiling at him. Noah, wiping his tears. Noah, handing him an engraved locket. Noah wearing his stupid plaid shirts. Noah teasing Luke's own striped shirts. Noah, kissing his chest, once twice, three times. Each time harder than before. Noah Noah Noah...everything was Noah. But why? Why the hell couldn't he think of anything besides Noah?

He shook his head again, a bitter smile tickling his face.

"In the end, I just wasn't enough for you, was I? Maybe...I was never good enough..."

Pain struck through his chest. Why now? Now, the thoughts kept coming, unfiltered. Words he'd made himself deaf against.

'You just use people for fun?'

'You disgust me...'

'You don't deserve happiness...'

'You deserve ever bit of misery you'll get in life...'

'S'lut...'

'W'hore...'

'He deserves better than you...'

'Everyone does...'

His hands flew to his head. "I know! I KNOW!! Stop, please," he shouted. "Get out of my head...please..."

Was it possible to drown from tears? Or misery? Or a mixture of both?

He reached out, his fingers tracing the cool tomb before him. Every letter, every indent...all things he had memorized.

"I'm so sorry..." he whispered. "I did it again..." He let out a sob. He was feeling it again. His chest too small, his heart too large, and he was falling. Faster and faster and faster....

"Excuse me..." came a deep voice. Luke jumped, shaken out of his meditation.

He turned, finding himself looking up at a middle-aged man, an umbrella covering his body.

Luke opened his words, before immediately shutting it.

"Are you alright?" The man asked.

Luke's eyes widened with confusion, and suddenly he realized the man's motives. He glared at the man.

"Pick up someone else, pervert!" He turned around, closing his arms around himself. He wanted to leave. He wanted to change his name, his hair color, start all over. Disappear to a warm, sunny beach far away. He could spend his days sunbathing, eating coconuts, hula-dancing and maybe he'd even try surfing with Noah. Wait...Noah.

"I'm sorry..." The voice interrupted his thoughts again, and he whipped around, ready to displace his anger into the stranger. He noticed the man's small smile, sad and reminiscent of...Noah.

He gulped. That, there, was his weakness.

The stranger looked around, his eyes focusing on an area past Luke's head.

"My daughter is here..." he said softly. "She was only eight when she left..."

He shifted, his eyes drifting to Luke.

The smile reappeared.

"She was a pretty thing. Always smiling...always talking, sometimes too much, mind you. She loved people. Meeting them, making them smile. When people were happy, so was she."

"Granted, some people tried to take advantage of that...but either way, she was so happy, to just be...alive." The man choked up, a sob escaping his lips.

Luke's dried tears resurfaced. "I'm so sorry..."

The man nodded, and Luke straightened his back.

"I'm serious. You must hear that a lot...but trust me, I mean it."

The man stared at Luke, as if searching.

"Call me crazy...but I believe you."

Despite his earlier sorrow, Luke found himself grinning.

The man cleared his throat. "Do you mind if I....sit?

Luke almost burst out laughing. The man wore an expensive looking suit, and his glasses nestled neatly over his eyes. He glanced up. When had it stopped raining? Was God giving him a sign? It was because of this, that Luke found himself nodding.

****************************************************************************************************************************

"So what brings you here....?"

"Luke. Luke...Snyder."

"Right. Right. Luke Snyder." The man winked, and Luke found himself warming inside.

"I...I don't have anywhere else to go."

"So...you go to a cemetery?"

Luke turned to the man, before returning his glance to the tomb in front of him.

"She's my everything." He said softly, he chanced a glance at the man.

"Just like, your daughter was your everything..."

"--Is," the man interrupted. Luke nodded.

"I don't remember much about her...But just the fact that she's here, even if she's not here, makes me so happy....Does that make sense?" The man chuckled.

"Surprisingly, it does. Let me ask you something, Luke. What do you think she'd say about you, if she were here?"

"What would she say..." Luke turned away.

"What kind of question is that for a complete stranger?"

The man laughed, a sound coming from his stomach and straight to Luke's heart.

"Well, nothing else we've talked about has necessarily been conventional, now has it?" Luke smiled, slowly and freely. He glanced down.

"I think...She would be really disappointed in me. And I hate that." The man said nothing, and Luke glanced up.

"All this time, I thought I was hurting him...I wanted so bad to be hurting him. But it turns out...I ended up hurting everyone I love." He had no idea he had any tears left, but his wet face proved him wrong. He took a deep breath, glancing down again.

"I hate this," he whispered, resting his head on his knees, curling deeper into himself.

"Hate what..." the man asked softly, and Luke felt him shuffle closer.

Luke looked up, finding himself face to face with the second most beautiful pair of eyes he'd ever seen.

"This..." he whispered. The man's hand rose to Luke's head, gently gliding down Luke's cheek.

"This, what?"

"This...being seen crying...."

The man chuckled, his fingers smoothing away Luke's tears.

"Would you like me to leave, then?"

"No....."

"And why not?"

"Because. I hate being alone even more..." Luke's voice cracked, and he felt like at the moment, so did his heart. Could the earth possibly swallow him whole?

"Does it help...that I'm here?" The man asked. Luke's eyes widened, and he bit his lip, cautiously debating his answer.

"I wanted you to leave, before, remember?"

"Yeah...What changed your mind?"

Luke raised his head, his heart feeling heavier by the second.

"Nothing. I say...and do....a lot of things I don't mean." The man smiled, and Luke's heart skipped a beat.

"Is that so... In that case, what did you mean?"

Luke gulped. If his heart wasn't so heavy, would he be flying or falling right now?

"I wanted you to stay. I still do...."

The man smiled, his warm brown eyes dancing.

Luke could only look away.

"I've...I've been called heartless before..." Luke whispered. The man turned Luke's face, his eyes piercing their way through Luke.

"And I've been called selfish..." He whispered back.

Luke gulped. His heart. Too fast. Too fast. He needed it to slow down.

"My first impressions usually suck...but if you were selfish...you wouldn't have stayed with me."

The man was coming closer. Was it possible?

"I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, Luke. One of the biggest being the day I said 'I do' to a woman I never loved. I've always wondered how my life would be if I'd been brave enough to admit the truth. On one hand, I wouldn't have had Liz and so many hearts wouldn't have broken...I mean, was having Liz really worth it if she was going to be taken away from me in the end?"

He took a deep breath, tears shattering his clear eyes.

"You're a brave man, Luke. It doesn't need a brain surgeon to comprehend that."

The man's hands rose to Luke's cheeks again, floating...floating...floating down to rest above his heart.

"...And no one truly heartless would have a heart that beats so wildly. So long as it beats like this...no one has the right to call you heartless..."

There was no end to Luke's tears. He took a shuddering breath.

"It's broken..." he whispered, as if speaking any louder would break it even more. The man wrapped his arms around Luke, his fingers traveling to clasp around the small of Luke's back.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"What is?" Luke murmured into the man's coat.

"That it can be broken...and still beat so much."

*************************************************************************************************************************

He didn't know where he was. Whether he was flying or falling, crashing or dodging, he felt alive. His eyes blinked awake, and he realized he was in the arms of the stranger.

He pulled away gently, shyly avoiding the man's eyes.

"Sorry...I didn't mean to fall asleep. I guess I was more tired than I thought..."

The man smiled, stretching out his arms.

"It's no problem at all."

"But, Luke?"

"Yeah?"

"You do have a home to return to, right?" Luke glanced away.

"Not really....no..."

The man looked almost...No. It wasn't possible, but he looked...shy.

"Then...why don't you stay at my place? It's not far from here."

Luke gasped. He knew it.

In the end, they all wanted one thing.

For once...just once....couldn't someone be different?

He turned away abruptly.

"Leave." He said, his voice void of all emotion.

"Luke...?"

"I SAID LEAVE!!" He shouted.

Tears....or maybe it was raining again? Or maybe it was just raining on his face.

A hand tugged him around, and lips crushed into his. His eyes widened, before shutting tightly. Yes. He remembered this. This feeling of being dominated over. The roughness. The clammy hands He could let this happen. It was bound to anyway, right?

The man pulled away, his hands tightening around Luke.

"I won't leave."

"I've been an idiot before, and selfish, and maybe I'm even being selfish right now...But I'm not leaving here without you, Luke."

He lowered his head, resting it on both of Luke's hearts. Why was this so familiar? His racing heart, his entire body shivering just from the sheer joy of being wanted...feeling...What was the word? Loved. Was that what it was? Love?

He was shaking from every corner of his body. He tentatively reached his hands around the man's neck, squeezing...squeezing...

"I won't sleep with you..." he whispered.

The man gasped, pulling away.

"I didn't expect you to...I just...."

"Wanted me to stay?" Luke interrupted with a small smile.

The man stood, offering his hand to Luke.

"Wait..." Luke said. "Your name...."

"I'm surprised you didn't ask before...."

"That's because...you didn't really matter before."

"...Do I matter now?

"More than you should..." Luke said softly.

Their eyes locked.

"It's Blake....Blake Garneau."

Their smiles locked.

Blake's hands reached out again, and Luke found himself stared. This was too familiar....Noah had reached out for him in a similar fashion before. And Luke had believed that those hands would always be there. What would he do when there were no more hands that would offer him warmth? He reached up hesitantly, pulling back a few times. Finally, he took a deep breath...and reached up, clasping Blake's hands.

All he could do was hold on for dear life.


End file.
